Favorites from section called "Love" from chapbook "The Stars Reach Down and Speak Diamonds and Rubies"

Our hands were firmly cemented
With a fast balm, which thence did spring,
Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread
Our eyes, upon one double string….”The Ecstasy”, John Donne


The Secret Garden


That further dimension
that true love makes
the secret garden
of the matched lovers
the place no one else enters.
What is that mystery?
Bloom and sparkle
the light of the eyes
the mystery of new time
pushing a new curve
into the center of things
the soul that is
the two made one
the one soul
that makes the two
more distinctly who
they are
to then give
the better self again.




Miracle


I am a snow maiden

I have taken on your climate

see, I am to be your bride

has the snow begun to fall?

There is a basket of fruit

ripening on the porch

the hills are lovely

summer must be so glorious

its exuberance simply out

of contrasts. I am happy.

This is mine, all of it

when the snow falls

I have visions, bells ring

I see you and me by miracle

a veil lifted on a green land.





Dancing Princess


I have waited up till very late
the quiet sings to me
ice and snow cushion my defenses
the leaves have frozen in mid-air
a diamond offering.
I will forever go to the dance
wear my shoes out in the underworld
and you are invisible still.
I dare you to bring
that diamond token back
to show my Daddy.
I waited up
with a night full
of conversation
on the tip of my tongue
whispering warmth
pillowed against the cold
once again—you never show yourself.
I put the feast away
carefully covering the pies
lock the door
peeking once more
out at white and shadow
a visitation of winter
to this sunburnt land.
I feel the mist on the window
know the frozen sight
somewhere deep inside
the stars have sent
their sparkle and chill
to my very landscape.
I think of you
on your journey to me
and of the great distance
you’ve had to travel by now.
I wish for you a magic cloak.



Knitting


I’m knitting another row
it’s the same old Penelope story
written in a woven shroud
(aren’t we dying every minute?)
my living starts another unfolding
dreams are made of this
the folding in of another chapter
the knots of unforgetting
each stitch a question
each row a manifestation
each ball of yarn changed.
The story grows and at the end
I hope it will make sense.

I look to see in the morning
if the weaving sticks
if the fairy tale is beginning
is it something I can touch?
Will the story bring the stranger/Other back?
even with all his wild thread?
or is this another unraveling?
the dream gone dark again
caught in my throat
before it has had its chance?



Mid-Winter Spring


I can see your mind
speedily working out equations
to understand and open poetry
to no avail
it has its own mystery
so you come with a gift
in the opening
of mid-winter spring.
I receive your eyes
and my heart is like
a summer bird returning
with a song
it hasn’t sung yet.
Shall I deliver it?
Its sweetness sputters waiting
tossing and turning
in the star-driven night
and the new moon
sits bright and quiet.




You Meet Me Halfway


I’ve followed you down the amber roads
of Africa, as the sun sets
behind tree silhouettes
whatever is cruel, and predatory
your wisdom and beauty will overcome.

You move gently towards me
which surprise my expectations.

In everything which calls for action
you have thought the deed and moved
but in this—the space between us
you meet me halfway to who I am
and anything is possible now—
call me by my first name.

You have no need to kill a lion.

I have no need to tame him.

The dream has awakened again
the day sits dewy on my eyelids
everywhere I leave a trail of amber
soon, very soon, I will chance to meet you
in the world-time, in the mid-day.